The way they came to be
by HB rules
Summary: The story of how Haymitch met Effie, and how their lives came together and fell apart all at once. Chapter 2 AND new epilogue/chapter 3 up for the most misleading one-shot ever.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Firstly, I do not own any part of the Hunger Games which all belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

**That out of the way, I will say that this is my first attempt at a Hunger Games story. I saw the film just over a week ago, then straight away went out and bought all of the books reading them in four days straight. I am a big Effie fan, hence this, but I don't plan on just writing about her but her in context which is what this was supposed to be. I am working on another one, a darker one which is already longer than this one, but this idea came into my head and I wanted to test it out. So be kind at my first attempt and we'll see how it goes!**

**This was originally going to be a straightforward Haymitch/Effie fic, but then it went a bit deeper than that so I'm not sure exactly what it is. Sorry if some of the details are slight off; they shouldn't be, but they might. It's set before, during and after the Hunger Games trilogy so if you haven't read them watch out! **

**I hope it's okay and that you enjoy it and will stop rambling now!**

**HBR**

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><p><strong>The way they came to be<strong>

Twenty three people were dead. The one that got away, who had managed to stay alive long enough to fend off the others, had seemed broken when they took him away. He was quite a small agile boy from District 6 only fourteen years old, but he was bleeding badly when the Capitol crowned him as victor.

It had come down to the last three: two huge and skilful Career Tributes and this small boy, who had been smart enough to dip in and out to avoid the worst of the fighting. The Gamemakers had decided to melt away the rest of the scene in the arena, leaving nothing but the cornucopia and a deserted wasteland so that the remaining tributes could make their final stand. It was bloody. The larger men, from districts one and two, began fighting at once. They were evenly matched, locked almost in a stalemate when the small boy who they hadn't thought to fight, not yet anyway, shot an arrow which pierced through both of their bodies. He hadn't killed anyone yet, and now he was victor. The media loved him, the dark horse of the games, but Haymitch could only think of the twenty three families who would never see their loved ones again.

It never got easier. People told him, every year that he helped the two District 12 tributes to train and formed a bond with them only to watch them die, that it would get better. He would have to face their parents in a few days. He had known them for years – poor, simple folk but happy with their lives. That would soon change.

Haymitch sat in an armchair in one of the vacant rooms where sponsors and mentors gathered to watch the games, a glass of liquor in his hand. One way to stop the faces of the dead haunting him that night would be to drink his way into a state of unconsciousness. He had discovered this technique a few years ago, and despite the fact that he was watching himself turn into a raging and embarrassing drunkard, he hadn't the will to care anymore.

'Excuse me?' It was a small, polite voice coming from behind him. Haymitch jumped a little, having thought that he was alone, and left his glass on a table as he stood and turned to the speaker.

'Yes?' His tone was hostile, but something caught him off guard as he looked at her.

At first, he saw only another Capitol woman dressed in an extravagant pink dress decorated with ruffles and bows, sporting a bubblegum pink wig of curls atop her head; but there was something else. Behind her heavily made up face, her eyes glistened the brightest blue. She was young, maybe twenty, but carried authority as if she had held it for years. It was an understatement to say that she was beautiful, though Haymitch shook the thought from his mind at once. She was part of the Capitol, whoever she was. She watched the Hunger Games every year, probably bet on who would die like they all did. The fact that he knew she provoked feelings which he had not had in years made him angry. She didn't deserve them.

'I was looking for the office of the Head Gamemaker, but I'm not quite sure where to go,' she explained. She must work for the games, Haymitch thought, which made her all the more despicable. He tried his hardest to shout something at her, to tell her to go away, but her eyes did not seem unkind. Maybe she was different.

'I can show you where it is,' Haymitch offered, his tone still on edge and displeased but mostly that was just to keep up appearances.

'Oh,' she said, 'I don't want to trouble you.'

'I don't mind,' he replied, 'I don't have anything better to do.'

They walked in silence out of the room and up two flights of stairs, her ridiculously high heels tapping as she went. When they reached the office, she turned to thank him.

'I'm Effie, by the way, Effie Trinket.' She held out her hand, which he took in his own. Her fingers were so soft, so warm, that for a moment he didn't know what to say.

'Haymitch Abernathy,' he managed after some time.

'Haymitch! I didn't recognise you,' she trilled, a hint of excitement in her voice. She was just like all of the others. 'I suppose I will be seeing you next year then. I'm taking over from the current District 12 escort; poor thing had to be taken to hospital. I'm not sure exactly why.' Her voice trailed off, but her winning smile returned. Haymitch did not think her cruel, but perhaps naive was the word to use.

'Great,' mumbled Haymitch, 'see you then.' As he walked away, he didn't know what to think. Every instinct warned him about who she was, where she came from and how she was raised to love and excite in everything he despised. She probably watched his Quarter Quell on the television and cheered as his friends died, though she couldn't have been more than eight years old. Returning to his lukewarm alcohol he decided to hate her, yet he already knew that he couldn't.

Xxx

The two tributes sat at the table in the dining car as they sped through the rolling hills on their way to the Capitol. Although it was only late afternoon, Haymitch had been drinking for most of the day and was not exactly talkative. He was fuming.

He had known that she would be at the reaping; it had been playing on his mind for the last few weeks. Sure enough, as soon as she had stepped onto the stage and taken her place he was speechless. Haymitch had greeted her with a smile but that was all that he could manage as he watched her, radiant as ever and taking his breath away without needing to say a word.

But as soon as Effie stepped up to the microphone, Haymitch's stomach turned over. It was as if she was enjoying it, her bright and bubbly tone brimming with excitement and anticipation as she condemned two children to their deaths. Of course the escort had to be upbeat and encouraging, it was part of their job, but Haymitch sensed that she was glad of what she was doing and the games were entertainment for her as it was for the Capitol's residents.

He stared at her across the room as the tributes finished their meal, and he knew that she could sense his eyes on her. Effie turned her attention to the tributes.

'Now then, tomorrow is a big, big, big day so you will have tonight to rest and recuperate. Any strategy meetings with your mentor will take place after breakfast, before we arrive at the Capitol just after lunchtime. All right?' The tributes nodded, still muted in their shock but not crying at least. It was unbearable when they cried. Haymitch scoffed at Effie's little pep talk, taking another swig from the glass of wine at his table.

'Something to say, Haymitch?' Effie asked, looking at him with those eyes which sent a shiver down his spine.

'Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,' he replied, though whether she understood him was a different matter. His words were slurred with the alcohol.

'What are you doing, Effie? Why are you saying those things when we all know what's going to happen, what always happens? You stand there, in your stupid heels with your ugly clothes acting as if you don't know. As if you don't know they're going to-'

'Haymitch!' Effie shouted, stopping him in his tracks. He was glad of this, as he could see now that the tributes were terrified. They knew what he was going to say: as if you don't know they are going to die.

'Why don't you two go to your rooms and change? There's a lovely shower if you'd like to freshen up and supper will be served at 8,' Effie suggested kindly. They left without a word, and Effie could hear the little girl who was far too young for this madness breaking quietly into tears.

Effie turned to Haymitch with fire in her eyes.

'What did you do that for?'

'You needed to be put in your place,' he fired back at her. 'You act as if this is all a game, as if it's an honour to die for their district when it's just sending them to their deaths.'

'Well what else am I supposed to do? The reaping is televised and the Capitol will not be pleased if I remind the tributes that they are probably going to die. If they can try to enjoy what time they have left before the games then it won't be as hard for them going in; surely you can see that?' It was a well reasoned argument, but Haymitch had never listened to reason.

'You seemed to enjoy it,' he spat, furious. 'It wasn't just for the cameras, no-one is that good at acting unless they believe in what they are saying. I bet you've watched the games all your life, rejoiced when people died and now you get to be part of it. Well good for you, I'm glad you are having a good time, but don't expect me to believe that you care.' He threw his glass at the wall, where it shattered into a million pieces and the conversation was over. Effie said no more and left, her head held high and dignified, though Haymitch could swear that he saw wipe her eyes with the back of her hand as she disappeared from view.

Xxx

They worked together for almost ten years, forging what can only be described as a hostile but working partnership. They spoke when they had to, and tried to keep the harsh words to a minimum; at least when other tributes were around.

Haymitch joked about her in District 12, calling her every name under the sun until even his colourful vocabulary was exhausted. Everyone knew that he hated her, deep to her Capitol-perfect core, yet they didn't know that he dreamed about her. He dreamed of a quieter life, one where alcohol seemed to play a less significant role in his day, where he had a nice clean house and a family to love. His children ran around happy, and the woman he loved came home to him every night kissing him until he was completely content with the world.

Of all of the people this woman could be, it had to be Effie. In his dreams he could not be mad at her. He seemed to understand her so much better, to accept what she did and why she had to do it though when he woke it was a different story. When he was forced to see her in reality, Haymitch remembered his dreams of them entwined in each other's arms and it made him angry at her for being so desirable.

Xxx

Katniss and Peeta were in the arena. Something told Haymitch that this time would be different, that District 12 might have a victor, and he was finally beginning to pull himself together long enough to help them. He had chosen her, but he still willed them both on and had hardly touched a drop since their arrival at the Capitol.

Effie knew as well as he did that this was their chance to coach a winner, and she was pulling out all of the stops. Haymitch watched her charming the sponsors and persuading even those who were supporters of other districts to give something to the star-crossed lovers; it was as if she cared, but he knew deep down that she was only doing it for herself.

That evening, Haymitch stepped out of the elevator onto the District 12 floor exhausted. It had been days since he had slept properly, and both of the tributes would be fine for a few hours. He looked at the liquor cabinet, mahogany and stained glass with an inviting glimmer about it, but decided against it. He needed to sleep properly if he was going to get them through another day.

He was halfway to his room when he heard something, something he had never heard before. Haymitch walked to the door of Effie's room and paused, listening to her muffled sobs through the thin wooden door. He smirked, thinking that she must be in trouble with the Capitol or worried about her job, but it felt wrong to laugh at her pain.

For some reason, Haymitch found himself knocking on the door. She stopped crying at once, and he could hear her bustling around the room at high speed. When she opened the door, Effie was a different woman to the cold hearted bitch Haymitch cursed about under his breath whenever she walked into a room. She had lost her heels, standing more than a head shorter than him with her wig askew where she had hastily tried to cover her real hair. Her makeup was smudged, her eyes red and puffy where she had been crying and sparkling with vulnerability. Haymitch's first impulse was to pull her into an embrace, but he resisted knowing all too well what her reaction would be.

'What's wrong, sweetheart?'

'Nothing,' Effie whispered, though she could not hold his gaze. 'I'm fine.'

'If I believed that, then I would believe anything.'

She was startled by his kind, clear tone and wondered if he had actually though to help her. Every day with him seemed like a battle, but as he stood before her she could sense no hostility, only concern. Unsure of what to do, she walked back into her room leaving the door wide open for him to follow if he wished.

Haymitch took a quick look around Effie's room to find it bear. No pictures of loved ones, no personal keepsakes, just a suitcase of clothes and a carrier of makeup. It was a sorry sight to see. He watched as she tried to quickly and desperately wipe her eyes, cursing as her wig almost came off in her hands.

'You don't need to wear that all of the time, you know,' Haymitch offered. Effie looked at him, fiercely at first but a deep sigh softened her features. She hadn't the energy to argue, and he had already seen her at her worst. What did it matter now?

With more will than she had ever needed to draw upon before, Effie removed the wig from her head and threw it back onto the bed, releasing long auburn curls which shone in the light of the moonbeams streaming through the window. Haymitch didn't know what to do, or to say; if he had thought her beautiful before, now there was no word for it. She was not completely unmasked, but she took his breath from his lungs almost choking him with her slender figure and flawless complexion. Swallowing down his feelings, he resolved to figure out why she was crying.

'I've never seen you cry,' he said stupidly, immediately regretting his words. A sad smile ghosted across her face.

'I thought you knew by now,' she remarked quietly.

'Knew what?'

'I come in here most nights during the games, and some nights before, to do nothing more than cry. Every time a tribute dies, I have to excuse myself or...' she trailed off, as if she had revealed too much.

'I didn't know that you cared,' Haymitch admitted bluntly.

'Of course I care,' Effie hissed back at him, hurt by the way he saw her. She wasn't heartless, even if the woman she pretended to be acted that way. She had thought that he would be able to at least see that spark of humanity behind her mask. 'I watched a little girl of twelve years old die today. I watched Katniss sing to her as her life slipped away and all I could think was that if it was my l-little girl, then-' It was too much. She covered her face in a last attempt to conceal her dignity. She is human after all, thought Haymitch.

He sat next to her, far enough away not to invade her space but close enough to offer comfort.

'Why do you do this, Effie? Why did you take this job if it brings you so much pain?'

'You think I had a choice?' Effie asked him ominously. He didn't want to press further, as he could feel the pain it would cause, but he put a hand gently on her shoulder. She was stiff, at first, but warmed quickly to his touch.

'You thought that I enjoyed the reaping,' she remembered, tears spilling delicately down her porcelain face as she spoke. 'You called me twisted for pretending, for not risking our lives by showing my horror at the entire charade. I can hardly live with myself as it is without you accusing me of that.' It stung him, as it had meant to, though she still felt a little guilty even if he had it coming.

'It's not your fault,' Haymitch assured her.

'But I watch them die,' Effie cried, 'every year I watch them die and for what? They don't deserve it yet I say nothing, do nothing to help.'

'There's nothing any of us can do,' he admitted.

'I hope that one day there will be,' she thought aloud. 'They can call me the Capitol Bitch until their faces turn blue in the districts, but I have the same dream that they do – of a world where we don't have to fear for our lives every day. But I don't think it's possible anymore.'

'Oh it's possible,' Haymitch promised, putting an arm around Effie and holding her close, 'it has to be possible.'

Xxx

Another Hunger Games, a Quarter Quell, and this time Haymitch knows that everything is at stake. Effie doesn't know about the rebellion which is about to break out any day now, of the war that will follow, but he is itching to tell her. Ever since that night one year ago, all of his ill feelings towards Effie have melted away and he can't help but care for her. He cannot tell whether she feels the same way, perhaps he will never know, but as long as she's safe then he will be content.

It is the first night in the arena, but most of the training centre workers have gone home or to watch it with friends; the place is almost empty. He finds her after half an hour of searching, alone in a room with nothing but a huge television screen staring at the images flashing before her.

'You all right, sweetheart?' She doesn't turn around, doesn't answer him because she knows that if she does then she will burst into tears. Haymitch stands next to her, noticing the blank look in her eyes as she tries to shut out her emotions.

'It will be ok,' he assured her.

'How?'

'Trust me, I just know.'

'Okay.' She didn't question him. Something told her that this man could be trusted, that he would keep her safe. A ridiculous thought, given that they were enemies not too long ago.

'How long,' she asked, her voice weak and shaky, 'how long do you think this will go on for?' She didn't mean the games, and Haymitch knew it.

'Not long now,' he told her. It wouldn't be, as long as the plan went as he had instructed. She turned to him, her eyes brimming with tears she would not shed for anybody else.

'Tell me it will be all right?' she asked him, a plea which would sound childish in any other world. He took her in his arms, holding her close and breathing in her scent; she smelt of sweets and honeysuckle.

'Of course it will sweetheart, I promise.'

It was a long time before they pulled away, and Effie looked longingly into his eyes. She reached up, without a word, and kissed him lightly on the lips. He was shocked at first, but did not pull away. It was heavenly, soft and comforting, and to him the best thing about a very cruel world. It was too brief. When she pulled away, they looked at each other for what could have been forever. Effie's eyes sparkled with tragedy; she just needed someone. Years of being strong, of suffering in silence, had worn away at her and now she needed somebody to care what she thought. Their lips met again, and Haymitch knew that the impossible had happened – she wanted him.

That night was the best of Haymitch's life, without a drop of alcohol in sight, as he just held his girl close. He liked the sound of that, his girl. She slept in his arms and he was the luckiest man alive. He told her how everything was going to change, about the rebels and the games, and swore to her that a better life would come from it. He promised that he would not rest until she was safe, in the world that she dreamed of where there was nothing to fear.

But it was all too brief. Within days, the war had begun and Effie was nowhere to be found. Someone told Haymitch that she had been sent back to her home, where she would be safe, and he believed them. The rebellion took up his time, but whenever his eyes closed he dreamt of her and prayed that someone was watching over her.

Xxx

It was all but over. The Capitol was falling, and Haymitch could finally envision the bright future he had once thought lost to the world. Sitting in the empty command room, Haymitch finished off his drink with a content look on his face. Plutarch Heavensbee came in with a piece of paper in his hand.

'There's just one last thing to discuss, Haymitch,' he said. Haymitch groaned.

'Can't I just go to bed? Please?'

'You could, but Coin would kick you back out again. It's nothing really; we just need to go over the list of prisoners. These are the people who the Capitol took as the rebellion broke out, those we think that are alive anyway, and we need to decide whether to plan a rescue mission.'

'Isn't it dangerous?' Haymitch pointed out in a bored tone of voice.

'Very,' admitted Plutarch, 'but we can't condemn them to their deaths without being sure that there is no-one of use amongst them. I'm not even sure if we could get them out, but the question is, do we try?'

He handed the list over to Haymitch, who skimmed across it in a glance. That was before he noticed her name. Sitting bolt upright in his chair, he stared at the last name on the list: Effie Trinket.

'WHAT!' His world was falling apart. Everything he had worked for, stayed sober for, had all been to create a new and better world for them both; and now he realised that in his own selfish struggle, he had left her alone at the mercy of those who would readily hurt her.

'I'm sorry?' Plutarch inquired, trying to stay calm in the face of Haymitch's angry stare.

'I was told that she was safe,' he shouted, trying to work out what had gone wrong 'someone told me that she had gone home and she was being looked after. It's the only reason...'

It was the only reason that he hadn't found her and taken her to safety himself. It was the only reason that he was fighting at all.

'Who do you mean, Mr Abernathy?'

'I mean Effie bloody TRINKET!' he roared, kicking back his chair.

'Ah, I see,' Plutarch replied far too calmly. 'I believe she was taken when she was found with a small group of Capitol rebels; not many of them about I can tell you. Very brave people. But they had been looking for her anyway, for information about Katniss and you and Peeta, who fortunately we had the chance to save.'

'We have to get her out,' Haymitch announced. He wasn't asking.

'I will see to it right away,' Plutarch assured him, sensing that this was not a matter for discussion.

After Plutarch had left the room, Haymitch broke down. He felt tears scorch his cheeks. He had not shed tears in twenty years. He wondered what would happen if they couldn't find her, if they watched while the Capitol was destroyed and found her chilled lifeless corpse amongst the rubble. Haymitch knew that he would not rest until he found her. He knew that the promises he had made a lifetime ago had been broken, the trust laced within those words fractured like broken glass. He would beg for her to forgive him, weep until she understood that he never meant for her to end up in harm's way. She was his everything, he knew that now, and everything was slipping away.

Xxx

The hovercraft moved swiftly, reaching the outskirts of the Capitol in less than an hour. Haymitch had calmed down, relieved that within a day of his outburst something was being done and he knew that she would be safe. There wasn't another option than for her to be safe.

'I can't imagine her in prison,' he said aloud, knowing that Plutarch who sat beside him owed him enough to listen.

'Poor girl,' he said, shaking his head.

'It's so dark and cold, and she's such a bright person. God, I wonder how long she's been there...' Haymitch pondered.

'I would have to guess at least a few months,' Plutarch admitted sadly. It hurt Haymitch more to hear said the things he feared most.

'But she'll be okay,' he muttered, trying to convince himself, 'she will be okay.'

'We have a group of medics coming with you so she will be in very capable hands.'

This simple sentence struck fear in Haymitch's heart.

'You...you don't think...' He couldn't even bear to say the words. If they had hurt her, tortured her...the thought hadn't even crossed his mind until then.

'She knew valuable information about the war, and was found to be a rebel herself,' Plutarch reminded him gently.

'No! No they wouldn't...they wouldn't hurt her, why would they hurt her?' Haymitch thought of Peeta, who they had managed to save from captivity, and the state that he was in. He was broken, and Effie had been there far longer. If she was alive, then what had they been doing to her?

Haymitch threw everything that he could lay his hands on across the room, screaming out in rage. The craft couldn't ever move fast enough. He wanted to run to her, the woman who made him want to fall asleep at night so he could see her in his dreams, but he couldn't and it was killing him. She had made him stronger, made his life bright when it had once been nothing but darkness, and the only thing his mind could show him when he thought of her was a bloody corpse of the woman he had known.

Xxx

When they landed, he ran through the fire to the crumbling concrete building across the street where they knew Effie was being kept. The rebel soldiers and medics ran after him, telling him to slow down and that it wasn't safe; he wasn't going to listen. Haymitch found a way into the ruined prison base, knowing that she would be on one of the lower floors. The dungeons. Every dead body he saw seemed to have her face, ever tattered dress the same pink she was wearing when they first met, but he forced himself to plough on.

As he descended, the smell of blood and mildew became almost unbearable. The cells were tiny and rancid, and every so often there was a room with simple the word 'electricity' or 'water' scratched into it; Haymitch didn't want to know what those were for.

He heard bombs raining down above them, and a sense of urgency quickened his pace. Hers was the last cell in the corner, marked with a cross which he didn't know the meaning of. He knew that he would die if she hadn't made it. He couldn't live without her.

Crashing through the door, he found her. Her wig was lost, her face without makeup and her clothes barely shreds across her pale body. She was thin, months of starvation eating away at her beautiful frame until there was little left at all. The cell was covered in blood, it was everywhere. It painted the walls, lay a carpet on the floor and covered every inch of Effie's rag-like dress. He couldn't bear to see how her skirt was ripped, wondering what they had done to her.

Haymitch sank to his knees beside her, his eyes unable to stand the horror he was forced to see. She was unconscious, somehow still breathing, but there were ugly mottled bruises of purple and black on her face and neck and cuts down to the bone over her arms and legs. There was a stitched wound on her abdomen, grotesquely infected, where someone had attempted to perform surgery and they hadn't done it well. He wondered what the cost of that had been, what they had wanted from her, and he wished that she would have sold them all to ruin to keep herself from pain.

Still, she was beautiful. The rubies of blood glistening across her face did not mar its unrivalled and ethereal majesty, and even in tatters she was his princess. He bent down and gently kissed her forehead, tasting the metallic tang of her blood at the back of his throat; it was so wrong.

'I...I'm so s-sorry Effie.' He was already begging her forgiveness, which would never be enough. His fallen angel, still as stunning as the day she had taken his breath away. He hoped that she hadn't forgotten her dream, the dream of a new world and a new beginning, because by God he would tear down the world to bring it to her. Effie Trinket, the woman who had stolen his heart and paid for it with her life. She was still there, but Haymitch knew there was no going back from here. He had ruined her.

He cried. He couldn't stop himself. He had sworn to keep her safe, but he had failed and he had sacrificed her life in his own pursuit of war. Medics rushed in, some coughing and spluttering at the horrific sight before them and shouting as more bombs shook the room. She opened her eyes for less than a second; the sapphire blue of her irises glinted in the half-light, and she tried to talk to him but her lips couldn't form the words. She fell back into darkness, unsure if this was another cruel trick by her captors or just the heavenly host delivering her to death. She hoped it was the latter; there was nothing left for her. She couldn't bear it any longer.

Xxx

Effie was in the hospital for several days, though she would not wake. Haymitch stayed by her side for every minute of it, refusing to eat, sleep or drink until he could tell her what he should have told her months ago; that he was in love with her. That he always had been, and that he wanted to marry her. As if she would take back someone who left her for dead.

Some days he cried, begging her to wake up, and other days he screamed at her until the doctors had to calm him down. Mostly he just sat beside her, whispering into her ear.

'It's okay, my love, I promise. You're safe now, like I said you would be. Please Effie, please don't leave me. I can't bear it, I can't live without you. Please come back to me.'

'It was close,' the doctor said after three days, coming up behind a bedraggled and sleep deprived Haymitch. 'She couldn't have held on much longer. Plutarch wanted me to tell you something.'

'What,' Haymitch rasped, knowing that he wouldn't give a damn whatever the doctor told him.

'The information she had, about everything...well it would have destroyed us. She must have kept her mouth shut, because Plutarch thinks that with what she knew the Capitol could have easily taken out our defences. She helped to win us this war.'

'Yeah,' Haymitch acknowledged, 'and look where it got her.'

He stayed, stroking her hair until he saw those dazzling blue eyes again; but they were changed. They were dull and frightened, almost lifeless. She refused, for a while, to believe that it was him. She kept saying, 'It can't be you, Haymitch. I dreamt about you every night until they took my dreams from me and told me you would never find me, so how can it be you?' Kissing her forehead, he held back the tears that he knew would break him.

'I'm here, my love, I came back for you,' he would tell her softly. 'They can't hurt you anymore.'

Her screams were the worst. Whatever they did to her, it came back in her nightmares and she woke up screaming and crying as though she was still being tortured. He kissed her hand and soothed her back to sleep, knowing that it would never be enough.

'Please,' he begged, 'please don't cry.'

'But...but it hurts, Haymitch, God it hurts!' And she would scream until they brought the morphling to take at least some of her pain away. She held desperately onto his hand, the only thing in the world that could keep her sane, and tried to block out the last few months of her life; the pain, the humiliation, the guilt as she watched those she loved die. It haunted her, as she feared it always would, but he was there when others weren't. It was a start.

Xxx

Katniss was going to do it. She was going to kill Snow and end the war. Effie had organised what needed to be done when she was released from the hospital, though she curled into a ball on a night and refused to sleep. Her future, that world she had dreamed of, seemed further away to her now than ever. Everyone else could be happy but she was still locked in her own little prison, forced to relive every second in her dreams. She would never fully recover. The doctors had said as much themselves, but Haymitch didn't care. He loved her more than he ever had before, and despite everything she loved him too. Even if she cried every time they kissed, they were tears which could be dried if only by him.

They sat in a small room, the execution playing out on the television behind them. Anarchy was breaking out; Katniss had killed Coin, but they didn't care. They watched the screen with blank expressions, wondering when it had all gone so wrong. But in a world of death and unhappiness, there can also be love. Effie held out her trembling hand and Haymitch took it in his own. They were together, just about, and that would do.

'I love you Effie,' Haymitch said quietly, his voice catching.

'I love you too. Haymitch?'

'Yes?'

'Tell me that it will be all right.'

'Of course it will sweetheart, I promise. It will all be all right.'

Xxx

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><p><strong>Looking nervously from between the mountain of work I have to do... was it ok? Would really appreciate reviews, no matter how brief to see if I am any good at this lol. There are also cookies on offer!<strong>

**Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, despite this being my attempt at a one chapter story, here is another short addition to the story! It was suggested to me to write another chapter, so I thought that I might as well write a bit of what happened next.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed and favourited this story. Every review means a lot, and now 30,000 words into another HG story I need all of the encouragement that I can get! Thanks for reading and your support.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2 – Aftermath<strong>

The war had been over for two weeks. The broken glass and rubble had almost all been swept from the streets, the wounded been treated and the dead buried with the honour they deserved, but there were deep scars remaining which could not all be healed with a brush and a bandage.

Though it was nearing midday, Haymitch was still in bed. It was not that he needed sleep, for he had survived many years on a few hours at best, but that he needed to be there – for her. Effie's head was resting on his chest, her arms wrapped around his waist as though she was clinging on to life itself, but at least now she was asleep. She had woken several times in the night screaming for it to stop and for someone to help her, and in the end she had waited until the safety of daybreak before succumbing to her tiredness.

It killed him, to watch her struggle. He knew the pain of nightmares, the haunting faces that would never rest in peace and the questions which would never be answered. Why did they have to die? Could I have done anything to save them? Was it my fault? Yes, he knew how powerful and terrifying dreams could be, and he knew that for someone whose life had been thrown into chaos without warning or reason that it was enough to break them.

Haymitch felt Effie begin to stir, and a lump rose in his throat. He knew that he would have to tell her when she woke up, and he was worried about her reaction; he didn't want to lose her just as they had found each other.

'You all right, sweetheart?' he whispered as she sat up in bed and yawned. She gave a weak, empty smile.

'Fine,' she replied less than convincingly. She had been dreaming, of that Haymitch was sure. Just because she hadn't screamed, it didn't mean that she had slept soundly.

Effie rose to her feet and pulled a robe tightly around her skeletal figure, moving towards the window. They had been given a room in one of the old Capitol government buildings whilst everything settled down, and it overlooked a great garden of wildflowers which Haymitch would often catch Effie staring at though she would never go out. She hadn't left the room in more than a week.

Haymitch came up behind her and his arms wrapped around her waist. She didn't shy to his touch as she had at first, the warm strength making her feel safe when everything else made her feel weak.

'Tell me about it,' he offered, kissing her lightly on the neck. He stopped as she shifted uncomfortably.

'You don't want to know,' she assured him.

'I want to help you,' Haymitch countered wisely, 'and there's not much that could surprise me anymore. Please, tell me?' She sighed, giving in as she knew she would the moment he had asked. She would never deny him.

'It wasn't too bad,' she lied, not convincing Haymitch in the slightest though he allowed her to go on. 'I just dreamt that...that I was still there. I was back in that god awful place. I woke up there crying out for you, but the Peacekeepers told me that you had never come for me, that it had all been a dream and I had never left. And then they had a knife...oh God the knife...' He didn't press her any further, knowing that it was enough for her just to begin to talk about her nightmares.

'It's okay,' he whispered gently into her ear, knowing she was crying, 'it will get better, I promise. I know that it feels like the end of the world, but it won't always feel that way.'

'As long as you are here, I know that nothing can hurt me,' she said, turning into his body so that they could wrap their arms around each other.

After a long pause, he could hold it in no longer.

'Effie, Katniss and Peeta are going back to District 12,' he told her gently.

'So soon?' Effie remarked, surprised that with everything still up in the air they would choose to return to their district.

'She passed her trial, whatever that means, and has been acquitted of any wrongdoing for shooting Coin. They...they need me to go with her.'

Effie froze. Haymitch could feel her stiffen in his arms and it hurt him, it physically hurt, to think of what must be going through her mind.

As soon as she heard his words, Effie felt her life come to a halt. She didn't know what she had imagined their life to be like when everything was over, but she had never imagined the he would have to go so soon. She had wanted to believe that he wouldn't go at all, but the realisation hit her like a slap in the face: he was leaving her.

'Don't go,' she begged in a voice which was less than a whimper. Haymitch felt his breathing stagger as he held back tears.

'I wouldn't sweetheart, you know that I'd give anything to stay here with you for the rest of my life, but they've given me an order.'

'Since when have you listened to orders?' Effie sniped, her defences coming up as she pulled away from his embrace and turned back towards the window.

'It isn't about the orders,' he tried to explain, 'it's about Katniss. Her sister's gone, her mother is moving to another district to set up a hospital and she needs someone to go with her.'

'What about Peeta?' suggested Effie almost desperately.

'He's going too,' Haymitch informed her, 'but I can't leave them on their own after everything that's happened, Effie, I can't.'

'And...' Effie swallowed, 'and what about me? What happens to me in all of this, Haymitch? I can't do it without you, I just can't.'

'Come with me.'

'What?' Effie questioned, confused.

'Come with me to District 12,' Haymitch repeated, unable to think of life without the woman before him. 'Live with me, or somewhere else I don't mind, but I don't want to have to leave you Effie. I can't go back there without you.'

'I...I don't belong there,' Effie stuttered.

'You belong with me,' he said simply, 'and I am not going to leave you one your own, not now and not ever.'

Turning back to him, Effie looked deep into Haymitch's eyes and knew that he was telling the truth. He wasn't doing it to hurt her, even if it did, and he wanted her which was a feeling she couldn't bear to give up after living so long without anyone to care about her.

'Okay, Haymitch,' she agreed, walking past him and lying back down on the bed. Her head hurt, the concussion she had suffered when her cell had been hit by the bombing not quite fully recovered. Haymitch lay beside her, his arms holding her close and Effie didn't push him away. She wasn't strong enough to, not yet.

'When do you leave?' she breathed, trying to drift back off to sleep.

'First thing tomorrow,' he whispered back to her. 'I'll have Plutarch commission you transport in the afternoon, if you don't mind the rush.'

'Of course not,' Effie dismissed. She managed to fall back into the world of dreams, at the mercy of her broken unsteady mind. She dreamt not of torture, not of pain, but being alone and that was so much worse.

Xxx

It wasn't working. A fool could see it, though they had both tried to deny it for almost a month. Haymitch couldn't be there for her as much as she needed him to be, and Effie would never ask him to stay with her even when she was crying. He was torn between his duty to try and help Katniss and Peeta put their lives back together, to try and take charge of a small district with little more than smouldering remains to rebuild, and his longing to help the woman he loved out of the darkness she had slipped into.

And he didn't even know the half of it. Effie couldn't hide her vacant looks, the way she sometimes stopped and stared at nothing in particular until Haymitch pulled her back into reality; she wasn't able to hide how she still couldn't stop herself from screaming his name when she woke from a nightmare.

He knew all of this, but what he didn't know was that when he left during the day she didn't move a muscle. Even if it was only for an hour, if Haymitch wasn't there Effie almost ceased to exist. She would sit in silence and cry, the tears falling soundlessly down her cheeks and the fear that one day he might never come back driving her to madness. She was consumed in a world of fear and doubt until the moment that he walked through the door, just as she dried her eyes, and she could feel safe again.

It wasn't just that she depended on him, it went deeper than that. Haymitch wanted her to be able to do something for herself, to take pride in something, anything, so that she could start to move on but she wasn't strong enough. He wondered if she would ever be able to find her way out of the chasm she had fallen into, because he knew that she had to do it herself.

He was walking home from visiting Peeta and Katniss one evening, when he heard her scream. Haymitch dropped the flowers he had bought from one of the few shops in the district and ran faster than he had ever run in his life. He found her lying on the floor of the living room, and wondered if she had fallen asleep on the sofa and fallen to the floor in her blind panic.

She wasn't quite awake, her eyes still closed as she screamed as loudly as her lungs would allow her to, but as Haymitch scooped her up thrashing in his arms and put her back on the sofa she began to come to. Effie's voice died in her throat as she realised where she was, and she looked almost shameful as silent tears ran like rivers down her hollow cheeks.

'I...I'm sorry,' she rasped, her sobs causing her chest to heave with the effort of it, 'I...I just couldn't...'

'Hey,' said Haymitch, tilting her chin gently with his hand so her desperately vulnerable eyes were looking right into his, 'don't ever apologise. None of this is your fault, you don't deserve it, and if it is the last thing I do I will help you.'

Too weak from her own terror to argue, Effie moved so that Haymitch could sit down and lay her head in his lap as she cried until her eyes were sore.

'Haymitch,' she said after some time, 'I can't do this anymore.'

'What do you mean?'

'I can't live my life in fear,' Effie explained. 'You don't deserve this, to have to deal with what I can't and soothe me when I cry. We should be happy, a normal happy couple, but because of me we can't be.'

'Listen to me,' Haymitch assured her, 'this isn't how life is always going to be. You've been to hell and back, I understand, but you survived; you're still here with me and we _can_ be happy here.'

'I can't,' insisted Effie, sitting up to look at him, 'I can't because I don't know who I am anymore.'

'I've spent my entire life pretending,' she explained. 'I grew up in the Capitol pretending to care about style and fashion and pledging false loyalty to people I despised, but even since the war I've just been trying to be something I'm not. I...I don't know who I am, Haymitch. I don't know who I'm supposed to be.'

He understood what she meant. Ever since she was a child, Effie had been told who to be and now faced with a new world she felt as though she had no place there. Haymitch wanted to hold her, to tell her that it would be all right, but he didn't know what to say.

Reaching forwards, he kissed her softly on the lips.

'What are you doing?' she whispered to him.

'Proving who you are,' Haymitch explained, 'the woman I love and couldn't live without.' As he kissed her again, this time for longer, she wanted to push him away. Effie wanted to shout at him, tell him that it wouldn't solve their problems just to lose themselves in passion, but she couldn't. Since he had found her, the closest she had allowed him to get was an embrace. Sometimes she allowed him a quick kiss, but nothing more until that moment.

'I pushed you away,' Effie realised as they broke apart once more. 'I...I didn't know...'

'It doesn't matter,' Haymitch said but she stopped him.

'No, it does,' she insisted. She couldn't explain it, and didn't know where to begin, so instead she cupped Haymitch's face gently in her hands and kissed him back. They had told each other that they were in love, but neither had truly felt such pure emotion until that kiss. Everything else was lost. Her fear melted away, the memories suppressed to the darkest corner of her mind as she forgot everything except her love for the man before her.

He kissed her neck, his lips blissful as they touched her skin and she knew that it was right. Effie let go of everything and allowed Haymitch to take her to a place she had never been, one of unprecedented happiness and love. They moved together, kissed as though each one was their first, and when they fell into each other's arms it was the start of a new beginning; because now she knew who she was.

She was Effie Trinket. She was a survivor. She was strong and brave, not letting the horrors of her past rule her life and define her; at least not any more. She loved flowers and cooking, singing and laughing, but couldn't stand the thought of being on her own. In spite of everything, and against all of the odds, she was the woman who had stolen Haymitch Abernathy's heart.

'I love you Haymitch,' she whispered as the darkness invited her to sleep.

'I love you too,' he whispered back.

'You saved me,' she breathed, 'when I thought that I was beyond saving. You gave me back what I thought I had lost; my identity.'

'Well there is one way you could repay me,' he said, stroking her bare skin with a gentle hand.

'Anything.'

'Marry me?'

Xxx

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><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed the little extra chapter added on. I was a bit worried that it wasn't my best, but it is almost 3 in the morning so I am not the most coherant! Please, please review and thanks for reading.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**I know, I know, how many times have I said it was the end? But this is the epilogue, which has to count for something. **

**Anyway, several people suggested that I added a bit more onto this ever-growing story and with the ending of the last chapter this seemed to fit quite well. It's not much, but a bit more of an ending perhaps. I had to write it before tomorrow, with everything going on, so it may have been a bit of a hasty chapter! Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed they seriously make my day. **

**I will leave you to enjoy what will definitely be the last part of this story, and ask that you let me know what you thought and leave a review if you would be so kind! **

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><p><strong>Epilogue – The Wedding<strong>

'Are you sure that you're all right in there?' called Katniss from outside Effie's bedroom door.

'Yes, yes,' a muffled tone replied, 'just give me a minute.' When Effie opened the door, Katniss gasped in shock.

'Too much?' Effie frowned. Katniss shook her head at once.

'No, not at all; you look beautiful.' Effie smiled at Katniss and let her into the room, fussing over her auburn curls which hung in ringlets at her shoulders.

The dress was ethereal, giving Effie the appearance of an angel gliding across the floor without her feet needing to touch the ground. The hand woven silk was beautifully delicate, with small pink flowers sewn on the left side of the chest encrusted with small jewels. It was just long enough to brush across the floor as she walked.

Effie sat at her dressing table sighing. Katniss knew that it wasn't just because she didn't feel that she looked impressive enough, she was worried because she was nervous.

'Could you help me with this necklace?' Effie asked. Katniss took from her the precious circular emerald dangling from a thin silver chain, admiring its beauty.

'Wow,' Katniss remarked, 'this is...amazing. Where did you get it?' Effie lifted her hair with a swift movement of her hand and Katniss fastened it around her neck.

'It was my mother's,' she explained, 'the only thing she ever gave me.'

'Is she coming to the wedding?'

Effie's eyes grew dark for a moment.

'No,' she whispered, 'I don't have any family left. Nor friends for that matter.' Katniss took her hand and squeezed gently.

'You've got me,' Katniss assured her. Effie smiled, lost in thought though she tried to brush away the unhappy memories of the people she had lost. This was the beginning of a new life for her, not another day to waste mourning those she could do nothing to help anymore.

Xxx

Haymitch stood in the house Peeta shared with Katniss, adjusting his tie for the fourth time in ten minutes.

'It's fine,' laughed Peeta, 'you look very handsome.'

'She'll find something,' muttered Haymitch, though his eyes sparkled fondly, 'I'm always in the wrong for having scuffed shoes or a dirty shirt; she'll see if my tie isn't straight.'

'And would you have it any other way?' Haymitch grinned at him.

'Not in a million years.'

Xxx

Katniss helped Effie to put her hair up in pins so that only a thin layer of curls sat gently on her shoulders. Taking a blossoming pink lily Effie had picked the day before, Katniss secured it in place on the left side of her head.

'There,' she announced, 'all done.' Effie looked in the mirror, barely recognising the glowing, happy woman staring back at her. Her stomach churned and Katniss saw the worry in her eyes.

'What is it, Effie?'

'I'm nervous,' Effie admitted, ashamed to admit something so utterly ridiculous. She had nothing to fear. She was going to declare her love to the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with and she wanted nothing more, but there were nagging doubts in the darkest corners of her mind.

'What is there to worry about?' Katniss asked gently. 'I'm sure that it will all go to plan.'

'I know,' Effie sighed, 'it's just...I don't deserve a man like him. He gave me everything, helped me rebuild my life again and all I could offer him was a woman who couldn't handle her own nightmares. I don't understand why he wants to be with me.'

'Isn't it obvious?'

Effie shook her head.

'He's head over heels in love with you,' Katniss grinned. 'He told me just the other day that he didn't know what he had done for such a kind and beautiful woman to even look at him twice; Haymitch doesn't think that he deserves you either. I suppose it makes you perfect for each other.'

'He didn't say that,' Effie questioned, though her heart warmed as she realised that he had and she loved him even more for it.

'Word for word,' Katniss promised. 'You should both stop trying to find excuses why you can't be happy.'

'You are right of course,' Effie agreed, her nerves slowly waning as excitement took over. Katniss had said it: there was no reason not to be happy when her life was finally coming together. 'I can't believe I'm getting married.'

'I can,' said Katniss, 'but if we don't get a move on, then there won't be a wedding at all!'

Xxx

Haymitch stood beneath an arch of vines and white roses in the warm sunshine. The Meadow had been transformed, the long grass cut back without destroying the beautiful flowers that grew there and chairs had been arranged for the guests who had come out in force. The entire district it seemed had turned out to see Haymitch and Effie wed, a couple they had shied from at first but soon embraced into their community.

Amongst them were a few visitors from the Capitol, those who had known Effie from the Capitol rebellions and even Plutarch Heavensbee who had remained close with her since he helped Haymitch with her rescue. They were dressed in typical Capitol style, granting them odd looks from the people of the district, but the time for prejudice was over. A new world with new rules.

'Is she coming?' Haymitch muttered to Peeta, his best man, who was standing beside him. Peeta looked around and smiled.

'Yes,' he whispered back, 'they're coming.'

'How does she look?'

'Indescribably beautiful,' Peeta grinned. 'You are a very lucky man.'

'Don't I know it,' chuckled Haymitch. He couldn't resist. He turned to see her walking down the aisle lined with blossom, the sun shining brighter in her presence as his angel moved closer to him with a huge smile on her face. He had seen her smile before, but this was different, hopeful, and he knew that he didn't have to worry about her any longer though of course he still would.

Effie stopped beside Haymitch, taking in his clean shaven face and deep smell – not of liquor, but of cologne.

'Will I do?' he whispered.

'Yes,' she answered, 'but your tie isn't straight.' He had to stop himself from laughing out loud and wondered if it was possible to love anything as much as he loved her.

The new Mayor of District 12, Tyler Anderson, moved up to perform the ceremony and the final guests took their seats.

'Are we ready?' he asked.

'Yes,' Haymitch replied at once, taking Effie's hands in his own. They couldn't take their eyes off of each other, staring and smiling as they listened to the words which would change their lives.

'Do you, Effemy Aria Trinket, take thee Haymitch George Abernathy, to be your lawfully wedded husband?' Effie smiled, tears forming in her eyes.

'I do.'

'And do you, Hay-'

'I do,' he interrupted, unable to keep it in any longer. 'Sorry,' he mumbled, realising his lack of manners though Effie didn't seem to mind. 'I do and I always will, sweetheart. Until you're old and grey and longer.'

'Haymitch,' hissed Effie, though her smile said it all. His words meant the world to her and she could never thank him enough.

'Then I now pronounce you man and wife. You may...oh' Mayor Anderson stopped, blushing but smiling, as the couple fell into each other's arms before he even had a chance to finish the line. Katniss wiped a tear from her eye, watching as two people who had suffered so much finally embraced the happiness they had found. She looked at Peeta and raised an eyebrow, almost inviting him to ask her when they were alone. If they could do it, so could she.

Effie didn't want to pull away from his kiss, his tender touch which made her feel so alive, but they had already lingered too long in the moment. A violinist began to play and they broke apart, hand in hand, ready to face the world together. To her surprise, Haymitch swept Effie from her feet and walked her back down the aisle in his arms, stealing another kiss as they went. The crowd were on their feet, many holding sodden handkerchiefs and cheering the newlyweds on.

Peeta had baked the most wonderful three-tiered wedding cake, covered in pale pink icing and decorated with flowers; he had even made two small figures to stand on the top of the cake, one looking a little rugged and the other donning a bright pink wig. The violinist played softly and there was enough food and wine to feed an army of men; it was quite a party.

Effie, who had been sitting at one of the five dining tables now assembled in the Meadow, took slow sips of water from a glass. Haymitch came over to her, offering his hand.

'May I have this dance, Mrs Abernathy?' She giggled at the mention of her new identity and accepted at once.

Her arms wrapped loosely around his neck as his found her waist, the music playing as though just for them.

'We could do it, you know,' he said to her in a hushed voice.

'What's that?' she asked, intrigued.

'Be happy,' Haymitch said simply. 'We can do whatever we want with our new lives without anyone to tell us we can't.'

'That sounds nice,' smiled Effie.

'We could spend all day in bed, run a business, start a family-'

At the mention, Effie took one of her arms away from his neck to slap him playfully on the arm.

'Well,' he laughed, 'maybe not right away but we could; if you wanted to that is.'

'Perhaps,' she grinned, 'how long do you think it will be before you're ready to become a father?'

'Whenever the time is right for us, sweetheart, I'll be ready,' Haymitch answered diplomatically.

'Good,' Effie whispered into his ear, resting her head on his shoulder, 'because you've only got six months to wait.'

Haymitch almost fell over in shock. She moved back to look at him, waiting for his response, and felt elated as tears rose in his eyes. Tears of joy. He placed a hand on her stomach.

'A baby?' he asked, as though unable to understand the unworldly brilliance of the concept. Her hand moved gently to rest on top of his.

'Our baby.'

They spent the night locked in each other's embrace, swaying gently to the music until the moon rose to watch over them. They didn't let go for anything, their unity stronger than anything that could try to rip them apart. The words 'I love you' just weren't enough anymore, they belonged to each other so completely that it was a new feeling altogether. Love was only the beginning.

Effie allowed her eyes to close as she rested her head on Haymitch's shoulder again. There had been a time when she had wondered if her life was worth living, had thought about going to sleep and never burdening herself on the waking world again. She owed her life to this man, the father of her child and the only one she would ever love, and thanks to him she had a future. Neither of them was perfect, neither could say that they would always get it right, but there was a bond between them which was unbreakable. They had both been lost, and had found each other just at the right moment; just in time to save themselves.

The stars twinkled, the music played, and Effie smiled knowing that everything was just as it should be.

Xxx

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><p><strong>So, was it okay? Would really appreciate the reviews. Hope you enjoyed it, and though this is my last part of this fic I am sure there will be more of Hayffie cropping up under my name. They are just too sweet! Saw the film again today and I was sure there were some looks...<strong>

**Side-tracked again, but anyway hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!**


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